


Tell me now, how should I feel?

by cottage_lesbian



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: 1990s, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Beverly Marsh Doesn’t Leave Derry, Boyfriends, Coming Out, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier-centric, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, Homophobic Language, IT Chapter Two Spoilers, Internalized Homophobia, Losers Club (IT) Friendship, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Canon, Post-IT (2017), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-IT Chapter Two (2019), Prophetic Dreams, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Soft Richie Tozier, Teenage Losers Club (IT), Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-10-26 05:57:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20737343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cottage_lesbian/pseuds/cottage_lesbian
Summary: For Richie Tozier, it takes fighting off a killer clown to finally realize that, just maybe, being in love with his best friend isn't the weirdest thing in the world. Three years later, highschool is still hell and Pennywise hasn't left his mind, but it seems as if Eddie makes everything better.Then the dreams start.





	1. Prologue

Ever since the battle with IT, the Losers had, at most, two hours before they all had to hang out again. It was the unspoken rule. If you’d go home at all after school, you’d do your homework and all that boring shit then rendezvous. The library, the barrens, the clubhouse, anywhere they could find a spot to sit and hang.

Most often Bev and Ben would pair off, sometimes with Mike, and bike down to the library for those couple of hours. Stan had to go home and practice Hebrew with his dad, Bill still had scouts meetings to go to, so Eddie and Richie usually spent their two hours together. Today they were tucked in the nook of a tree down at the barrens, just enough room for two to annoy each other to hell and back.

“Y’know it’s actually fucking disgusting out here, right?” Eddie said, shifting away from the bark of the tree. “Probably a billion ancient parasites just laying out here waiting for idiots like us.”

Richie shifted his elbow into Eddie, it was already touching him, but the boy got the message. “Calm down, Eds.” He turned the page of the comic they were sharing and Eddie turned it back to finish it.

“Don’t call me that, and no! It’s so dirty, we might as well be licking the fucking ground out here.”

Richie shoved his glasses up and stood up from the tree, leaving his friend with the comic and a look of dread. Rich stomped over the fallen leaves and squatted, staring Eddie dead in the eyes.

“Richie, no.” Eddie was already onto Rich’s bit and regretting saying anything.

Richie could feel the shit-eating-ness of his smile, “Eddie, I basically have to now.”

“You really don’t.”

“Oh no, I think I really do.” Richie picked up a leaf from the forest floor, making sure to dig under the crunchy ones for a nice soggy one. The kind that looked like cereal floating in a bowl of milk for too long.

“Rich, I’m gonna fucking puke.”

And, obviously, that was Richie’s cue to shove the entire mud-soaked leaf into his mouth. He chewed, mouth open, and made sure to dramatically swallow. Eddie gagged.

“You are so fucking disgusting!” Eddie dropped the comic and fumbled with his fanny pack, even though nowadays it was more for bandaids and granola bars than his old bullshit pills.

Rich smiled, less shit-eating this time, but only minutely. “Oh, but you love me for it, Eddie Spaghetti.”

Eds just rolled his eyes and stood up from the tree, “I swear you’re gonna get fucking AIDS out here and I’m not even gonna feel sorry for you.”

Rich couldn’t lie and say that word didn’t hit differently than the rest of the jokes. The big A I D S. He said it, the rest of the Losers said it, but Eddie saying it felt like a whole new caliber. Felt like IT and Bowers all rolled up into one big kick to the balls.

“Oh, what? You worried I’m a fag?”

Eddie’s face fell as Rich’s tone changed. He didn’t mean to stop joking, this was all one big bit, right? “Hey man, I was just-”

“Don’t worry Eddie Spaghetti, I’m already chock full of AIDS. Got a big ol’ cabinet at home full of it. Me and my faggot friends make sure to stock up.”

“Rich… Beep beep, man.”

Richie moved towards Eddie, his voicing rising much higher than it started. “No! Don’t fucking worry, Eds my man. You got me! I’m a big fucking fairy with AIDS fucking coming out my ears! Glad it’s not just Bowers noticing anymore, let's get all the Losers on it too. Let's all make fun of the fucking queer.” Rich didn’t realize he was yelling till Eddie’s eyes were wide, brimming with tears. He didn’t think he was crying too till he had to hiccup in his breaths. “Just fucking go, man. I’m gross. I get it. Just leave me alone.”

Eddie stayed in place, eyes wide like Richie was the oncoming car and he was the deer about to be mangled. Rich curled in on himself, arms hugging close around him, eyes glued on the forest floor. Eddie finally snapped out of it, putting his arm on Richie’s shoulder before pulling him in. It was awkward, yeah. Richie had at least two inches on Eds, and a broken arm didn’t exactly scream comfort, but it was good. It was their kind of good.

Richie fell apart and leaned into Eddie entirely. The collar of his polo was soaked in seconds, but Eddie found himself not really caring. He moved his arm, the one without a cast, up and down Richie’s back. His mom had done it for him when he was sick, so he figured it’d work just as well now. “You know I don’t think you’re a faggot, right?” Richie stiffened in his arms. Ed didn’t know how, but that felt like it just made things worse.

“Eds I- I am. I’m a fucking weirdo. Bowers is right I- I-”

Eddie interrupted, “He’s not, I’ve seen his fucking grades he doesn’t get anything right.”

Richie looked down at him, tears pooling in his glasses. “But he is right. I’ve ne-ever had a fucking girlfr-friend. Why the fuck do you think so?”

Eddie shushed his friend and continued rubbing his back. Maybe this only helped when you were blowing chunks and it was just weird for consoling a crying friend. Whatever. He kept doing it anyway.

After a few minutes, Richie calmed and Eddie was able to sit them both down in the tree and talk. “What was all that about?”

Rich sniffled and wiped at the tear marks left on his lenses. “Bowers is just getting to me, I guess.” For some reason, it didn’t feel right.

“I’ve seen you get worked up over Bowers before but,” Eddie paused, “that's not fuckin it, at least not all of it.”

Rich took a breath and moved as close to the tree as he could like he was trying to escape Eds, or maybe, just the whole fucking situation. “Bowers isn’t making that shit up. I mean, he is, but-” Richie took a breath, and it was heavy with the potential of tears, “I think I don't like girls.”

Eddie just sort of hummed. “Oh,” he said. His brain seemed to mimic the expression. Oh. There wasn’t any intelligent thought, any word of comfort or disdain just- Oh.

“Please don’t say anything,” Richie said more to his lap than to Eddie. “You don’t have to hang out with me anymore, I get it, but please just don’t tell the guys-”

“I don’t like girls either.”

Now it was Richie’s turn to freak. His brain wiped, the air ripped out of his lungs. Oh. He understood Ed's reaction now, it was a natural response. Oh.

“At least, I think I don’t. I don’t know if I don’t for sure, but I get what you’re saying. I- I’m not gonna say anything.”

“Oh.”

Eddie’s face was on fire, not like fucking blushing, but really genuinely hot and red and absolutely mortified.

“Yeah.”

Richie braved a glance at Eddie, “So, you don’t think I’m a faggot or something?”

Eddie looked back, meeting Richie’s eyes. “No. I just think you’re fucking gross for eating a leaf off the ground.”

Richie laughed, the sound was wet and gross, but the same carefree Rich Eddie was used to. “I uh, I never really wanted to say anything about it to anybody. You especially, y’know.”

Eddie’s heart scrunched up in his chest. “What do you mean?”

“I uh, well.” Rich wished he could shrink back into himself. He wanted to talk into his lap or into the leaves or anything, but he held his friend's gaze. He might as well fuck everything over again cause obviously the first time wasn’t enough. “I kinda found out ‘cause of you. When we were in the house and IT had you... it just sorta came to me that I couldn't lose you. I mean, I would never want to but... I just couldn't. I had to save you because I couldn't think of life without you. I wanted to protect you. I needed to.”

Eddie knew what Rich meant. He knew and that made it all the worse. The silence between them probably only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like hours. Like suddenly miles had sprung up between the two in a half-second of stilled voices and racing minds. He shook his head, laughing or crying, or maybe both, into his hands. “God, this is a fucking mess.”

Rich couldn’t find it in himself to laugh too. “Yeah. It really is.”

Ed looked up at Rich, eyes dewy and scrunched up in a weird combination of laughing and absolutely pants-shittingly terrified. “How the fuck am I gonna explain to the Losers I have a boyfriend?”

Rich’s jaw dropped, his heart lept into his chest, his body did all sorts of weird fucking gymnastics all over the place. “Boyfriend?”

Eddie chanced a smile, “I know what you mean, about how you felt when we were fighting IT. I was scared shitless, but all I could think about was you and... I'd thought about you a lot before that and thought I was a fucking sicko. But with a demon cannibal fucking clown hovering over me none of that shit felt nearly as bad. It's not weird to be like this when you're trying not to get murdered."

Rich huffed, "Yeah. You're right about that."

Eddie smirked, looking up at Richie. "And you saved me. We killed that fucking clown so, yeah. Boyfriends. That's what people like us call it, right?”

Rich laughed. Genuine and full-heartedly giggling and snorting like he’d just made the best your mom joke the world had ever seen, “Yeah, I guess we are.” Eddie joined in, he pressed himself against Richie as he wheezed like he’d never get another full breath. If it wasn’t bullshit, he’d be reaching for his inhaler as they doubled over. Making an absolute fool of themselves in the middle of nowhere, where it was perfectly safe to be as idiotic as possible. “I’d really like that, Eds. I’d like to be a couple of fags together.”

Eddie scrunched up his nose at the word but smiled despite himself. “Shut up, trashmouth. We’re not fags, we’re Losers.”

Rich ruffled Eddie’s hair, “Yeah, you’re right. A couple of Losers.”

Eddie usually would have resisted, gotten all mad at Rich, but right now he was pretty exhausted. He’d just gone from being yelled at to crying to coming out to laughing hysterically so, sue him if he curled up against his best fr- boyfriend and rested for just a second.

“You sure you want to do this, Eds?” Richie said, quiet as a prayer.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, and meant it. He really really meant it.


	2. Chapter 2

Derry didn’t change much as time went on. The missing kids washed up in the barrens and after they were buried, everyone seemed to forget anything had ever happened. Bowers showed up with them and the cops dragged his ass to a mental facility upstate thinking he was behind all of it. Bev’s aunt took her in and she moved in just two streets down from Bill’s house. Stan had his Bar Mitzva. Eddie stopped taking his bullshit pills. Everything seemed different, but in the same ways it always had. 

The Losers were seniors now, far beyond the days of rat-mustaches and New Kids on The Block. They had cars and jobs and relationships. They were practically fucking adults, but they still managed to bike down to the clubhouse. It was less paddleball and more booze nowadays, but it was just as good. Stan made sure to buy them new shower caps every once and a while. For the spiders. 

Eddie and Richie changed, but no one could really tell. Eddie swore up and down that they’d understand, that the Losers were a team, but Rich could never find it in himself to believe it. They’d been officially together since the week after they killed IT and no one knew but them. It was a whole thing at the time, crying and confusion and self-hatred they just couldn’t shake but now it was just... them. They would sneak off and make-out behind bookshelves at the library. Friday nights Rich would drive them up to lovers-lanes to listen to Nirvana and mess around in the backseat. It was normal. Nice. But still, it nagged at Rich’s brain, his dirty little secret. He was a faggot in a very no-fags-allowed town, and god if IT didn’t scare him, that did. 

Of course it never bothered Eddie. After they killed the clown, nothing in the world seemed to scare Eds. It was nice. Very hot of him, Richie liked to think, but it was scary. Rich was the scared one, now. He didn’t have any bullshit placebos or dumbass fanny packs, but he cried now. He never did that before. He cried and had nightmares and shook every time he saw something red in the distance and Eddie was always there. They’d switched places, different in the same ways.

Rich started sleeping over at Eddie’s more. Mrs. Kaspbrak never said anything about it, but she hardly talked to Eddie anymore. It seemed to hurt him, yeah, but it was a hell of a lot easier to ignore the abuse that was silent. 

Eddie rolled over in bed to look at Richie, his nose scrunched up the way it always did when he was upset. “What's wrong, Rich?” 

He didn’t know. It was something, yeah, but what kind of something just kept slipping away. “It’s nothing. Go back to sleep.”

Eddie held Rich’s gaze and eye-contact-stiff-armed him into talking. That was one of the new features, Eds got him to do things, not the other way around. “I don’t know what it is, I just feel… off.”

Eddie slung an arm around Richie’s waist and pulled him in. Richie happily obliged and burrowed into his boyfriend's shirt. “Want me to tell you about the future?” Eddie asked. He’d told Rich about the future every night for a week now. It made the nightmares as easy as they could get. Rich nodded against Eddie’s ribcage and the boy just laughed and started.

“When we graduate, we’re gonna move down to New York City. We’ll find a nice apartment without any rats and I’ll find a job somewhere that  _ isn’t  _ a strip club.” Rich laughed and shoved at Eddie who, for some reason, was adamantly against his (rightful) claims that Eds would be a good stripper. He could practically hear Eddie’s ‘beep beep’ primed and ready. 

“We can be us and go on real dates like a real couple without some idiot dickheads ruining it.” Eddie started brushing his fingers through Richie’s hair. He really seemed to like how long it was compared to his middle school days, grown out and curling every which way. “You can do stand up in hole-in-the-wall nightclubs that smell like pot and I’ll be in the front row every night. And I’ll promise to shut my mouth, no matter how many times I want to say ‘beep beep’.”

Rich snorted and Eddie put a gentle hand under his chin, lifting Richie’s head up. Looking him in the eyes, he said, “We’re gonna make it there, I promise.”

“Yeah,” Rich said, leaning in to kiss his boyfriend goodnight. They only needed a miracle.

\---

As much as things had changed between he and Eddie, school was still the same bullshit as ever. Bowers was gone, same with his buddy Hockstetter, but one bully gets eaten by a crazy fuckin’ clown, another takes their place. Jack Ellison was the new head of the school dickheads. And, by the looks of things that morning, he was ready to fuck with his prey. 

“Hey, you,” he called, and Rich gripped the straps of his backpack, “Fairy in the Aerosmith shirt.” 

Rich turned to face the guy and his goons, spread out against the lockers like they were fresh off the set of an episode of Saved by The Bell warning kids about bullies. “You called?” he said, and one of the taller goons in the back smirked, so Rich considered this situation a win so far. 

“What’re you doing walking around with that shirt?”

“Well, generally I do this thing where I put on clothes every morning. It’s pretty indie, I don’t know if you’ve heard of it.” The same guy in the back smiled but hid it before the others could see.

“You think you’re funny, Tozier?” Ellison asked, shoving Rich into the flow of foot traffic. He knew he hit someone behind him, but decided they’d understand he didn’t mean it when he got his ass kicked in front of them. 

“Look, man. I’m sorry. I’ll go and leave you and the rest of the Brady Bunch alone.”

Ellison’s goon didn’t smile at that one, and neither did he when he offered a swift fist to Richie’s stomach. Rich doubled over but decided yeah, he probably earned that for his smart mouth. Ellison checked him into the lockers and made sure to leave with a vague threat about “faggots ruining rock n roll” or something like that. Yeah, like he’d decided to make Freddy Mercury gay. Rich just pulled himself up awkwardly and avoided Eddie’s sad glances in first period. He was just glad Ed's had to talk to Mike before school so he didn't get his shit rocked too.

At lunch, Ben and Eddie were arguing over the meaning of some fucking Backstreet Boys song while Bev and Richie picked at their food.  “Saw Ellison knocked you on your ass this morning,” she commented, twirling around a bit of mystery meat on her fork. “You alright there, Rich?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, and felt just about as opposite as he could get to fine. Ellison didn’t get any credit for that, his piece of shit brain did. 

“Listen Rich... I know you aren’t. So seriously, what’s up?” 

Bill looked over at Bev from across the table before glancing at Rich guiltily. Sending the girl in to do his dirty work? Not cool, Bill. Not cool.

“I don’t know what everybody is so pressed about here. First Kaspbrack, now you and Bill. I'm fine, really."

"Hey, I n-n-never said anything," Bill tried to argue through a mouth full of ham and cheese sandwich. 

"We're just worried, Richie. You're not yourself lately." Of course Bev had to be all nice about it. She was always pulling this bullshit. A little part of him at the back of his head said 'No shit, Sherlock! She's your friend and she cares about you, of course she's gonna be nice.' but he'd never listened to that part of him before, so why start now. 

Rich picked up his lunch tray with a little too much force and it clanked against the table. "Well, I'm fucking fine, ok? You don't have to baby me. I'm all grown up now, you don't have to use the special Richie gloves on me anymore." Rich spun around and ran straight into Stanley, knocking him on his ass. The two of them seemed to be equally as horrified to be in the position they were. Bill got up to help up Stan, collecting his books that scattered across the floor.  Rich muttered a "Sorry, Stan" before storming off around them. God, this day was just a fuckin bunch of roses, huh?

Eddie drove the two of them home in Rich’s car. He had his license, yeah, but Mrs. K never let him drive her car. They were “too dangerous, Eddie bear”. 

“Honey,” Eddie started, and Rich curled into himself. He hated how much he liked those nicknames. He hated this whole thing. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing.” Rich insisted, pressing his forehead up against the window. It was cold, the autumn air changing carefully to winter. 

“I know it's not nothing, Rich.” Eddie looked over at him and Rich was hit with just how grown up he’d gotten. “You can talk to me, you know? I’m always here.”

But that was the thing. Richie just… couldn’t. He couldn’t talk to him. He saw his Eddie, his dorky, short, weirdo boyfriend he’d grown up with and then- this guy. This Eddie was new and strong and responsible and not what he’d expected for his Eds. He was different. He’d gotten a jawline, his hair was loose and his eyes were, well, still the same. But they weren’t so scared and sad all the time. This Eddie was what he wanted to be, what he should have been. He was the strong one. He stared down Pennywise while holding his best friend in his arms. He beat the shit out of that fucking clown. 

Why was he so fucking useless now?

“I know,” was all he could manage. They drove the rest of the way home in silence. 

The two of them went home, to Eddie’s house, at least, and did their homework. It was almost never silent after school. They joked and yelled and made popcorn to throw at each others faces. It was silent today. Eddie helped Rich on a few math problems, but he just nodded and hummed to everything his boyfriend said. 

It was Richie’s night to cook something, but Eddie went ahead and made them some pizza rolls and sat in front of the tv. Nothing interesting was playing, but they watched anyways. He heard Mrs. Kaspbrack creak through the kitchen, but she didn’t peak her head into the living room. She knew better than that.

Rich sat crisscrossed on Ed’s bed while he took a shower. Usually, he’d be bothering him, banging on his door and fake-begging to be let in like an especially annoying house cat. Tonight he was just staring down at his hands. The scar jagged across his palm and he ran his finger along it. He’d gotten it just the other day, hadn’t he? It was fresh just a moment ago. Bill had dragged the glass across his hand no more than a few seconds ago. They had killed IT. They’d won. He didn’t need to worry about them coming back. IT was dead. The fucking clown was dead. 

Rich fell asleep there, curled up in a ball on top of Eddie’s bed. 

\---

The space around him was dark. He felt a chill go through the open area and Rich looked down at his hands. They were different. Older and darker, but still with the same jagged scar. He moved forward into the darkness, the cavern opening towards the one point of light in the distance. And there, he saw IT. 

IT wasn’t as it had been before. Pennywise had tripled in size, arms everywhere, all sharpened to a sickening brown point. IT saw him, and he saw IT. Neither of them moved, neither of them spoke. The lack of noise seemed to echo up into the cavern. IT looked in front of him to a figure appearing out of fog he couldn’t tell had been there before. 

Eddie was standing in front of him, still as could be. He looked scared, fucking terrified, but it wasn’t his Eddie. He was older, much older. Probably the same age as Mrs. Kaspbrack. He’d aged well, though, the dickhead. He still looked like the Eddie Rich had fallen in love with. Cheeks all chubby, brown eyes deep set behind the world's longest eyelashes a boy could have. Eddie was the same as always, just in a different way. Rich smiled, he liked this different way.

Older Eddie reached out to him, and he felt their hands meet, fingers interlocked. Eddie was warm. He was always feverish when they were kids, but he was warm-warm now. It dripped down his hand, pooling somewhere below them. Older Eddie coughed and it splattered across Richie’s glasses. All so warm.

IT was looking down at them now, smiling. They were no longer frozen, they were reanimated, a scared kid and a hungry ass clown. IT lunged forwards and Eddie, oh god Eddie. One of IT’s sharpened arms ripped back, and fuck, how long had Eddie had it in him? How long had he been bleeding out? Blood was on Rich’s hands, his glasses. Ed’s eyes were so so scared. 

“Richie…” Eddie croaked and Jesus, how could he even talk? He could practically see through his stomach. 

Rich ripped his jacket off, and pulled Eddie into him. “It’s ok, buddy. It’s alright.” His voice was so much deeper than before. How old was he? He had to be just about as old as Eds, but god it felt like he was ages older. His hands shook and his eyes burned like he’d been in the grave for a century or two.

Eddie shook and grabbed at Richie’s face as he pressed the jacket into his stomach. “Richie, please help me.” Blood smeared across his cheeks, he could feel blood and tears caught in stubble he didn't remember growing.

“I know, Ed’s. I’m right here. I’m trying.”

Eddie coughed and it shook his whole body, “Please don’t let me die, Rich.”

Richie was crying, shaking like he was the one stabbed through the middle. Fuck. Fuck he wasn’t gonna he able to do this. “I know, honey. I know. I won’t, I promise.”

Eddie, clutched Richie’s arm. “You said you loved me, you said- you said we’d make it to New York City.”

Richie spit up something, vomit or blood or tears, who cared? His stomach was churning and his heart was racing, “I do. I love you so much, Eddie. Please, just keep your head up.” 

Eddie wasn’t keeping his head up. He was bleeding out and scared and oh god- Rich was going to have to watch him die. He was going to watch the love of his life die in his arms.

Instead, he woke up.

—-

His head snapped up, someone was screaming and Rich really couldn’t tell if it was him or Eddie drifting over from his dream. He was crying and oh god, the blood. The blood was all over him. 

Rich felt a hand on his back, “Jesus, what the fuck is going on?”

Richie had to breathe. He closed his eyes and stopped. In and out, like Eddie showed him. In through your nose, out through your mouth. He caught his breath and there Eddie was, hovering over him in a towel, hair wet and messy. There wasn’t any blood, just water from the shower. IT wasn’t here. IT was dead. They had killed IT a long time ago. 

“Honey- Rich, baby. What’s going on?”

Rich shook. Keep breathing, he thought, I have to just keep breathing. “It was-s another nightmare.”

He looked up at his boyfriend. It was the same face. The same chubby cheeks and brown eyes and light freckles across his nose. It was Eddie. He held onto his Ed’s so tight he could have sworn he would have broken him in half. “I… I’m scared.”

“I know, honey.” Eddie said, rubbing his hand up and down his boyfriend's back, “I know.”

Rich hiccuped and buried his head further into Ed’s chest. “I’m scared. I keep having dreams about IT… and I don’t know if they’re dreams or not. They feel so fucking real.”

Eddie held Rich tighter, brushing a hand through his hair. “They’re not. I’m ok. You’re ok. We killed that fucking clown and it’s not gonna come back.”

Richie couldn’t find it in himself to argue even though he just knew the dreams, especially the one he just had, were real. He knew it, but Eddie looked so tired, and he was so warm against Rich. Exactly the right amount of warm. So he gave in, he burrowed under the covers and Eddie held him. He listened to his boyfriend breathe in and out, in and out, till the other boy fell asleep. 

Richie couldn’t sleep. And, for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like shit cause of it. He wasn’t a weak link, not some paranoid psycho the Losers were just holding on to for old times sake. He was scared shitless, but he was determined.

He’d watched Eddie die, and he knew it wasn't his brain or whatever "PTSD" bullshit Stan preached. It wasn’t a nightmare, it was the future. He was supposed to live to grow old and fight that fucking clown again. That, he could accept. He’d made a promise to come back for a reason, but there was no way in hell he’d ever let that happen to Ed.  _ His _ Eddie. 

Rich turned over in bed and looked at his boyfriend sleeping peacefully. Ed’s nose scrunched up as he was shifted and Richie couldn’t help but smirk and plant a gentle kiss to the wrinkles on his forehead. He was going to be the strong one. If he could protect Eddie once, he could protect him again. No matter what.

He was going to save Eddie.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm not just torturing the guys, it's going somewhere, there will be more than enough fluff to go around coming up

Richie woke up and Eddie was still next to him in bed, already up and reading. “Good morning,” he grumbled, burying his bed head into Eddie’s side. At some point through the night, he’d thrown on one of Richie’s shirts. And no matter how tough he got, Ed’s would always be swimming in them. 

“Hey, sleepyhead. It’s noon.” Eddie poked him in the ribs and Rich just giggled.

He tugged on Ed’s sleeve and noted how it could have fit another two Eddie arms. “Yes, and?”

“And it’s time to get up, idiot. You’re gonna get bedsores.”

Rich sat up and smirked, “Well, you know how they cure bedsores, right?”

Ed looked down at Richie over his book, knowing he definitely didn’t have the medical answer to bedsores. “Yeah,” he said, a little too sarcastically, Rich decided. “How  _ do _ they cure bedsores?”

Rich appreciated Ed’s playing along, he really did, but he still had a comedy reputation to uphold, didn't he? He couldn’t start being considerate now. He leaned in close, looking both ways before whispering in a deep, sultry voice. “You have to suck their dick.”

Eddie laughed and shoved Rich away, “Beep beep, dickhead.” 

Rich just bounced back towards his boyfriend and kissed him. First gentle, cupping Ed’s face, closing his eyes, the whole nine yards. But he was a greedy son of a bitch and just had to bite at his lip and drag out a content hum from his boyfriend before settling back into his side.

“You’re happy this morning,” Eddie said, starstruck as they pulled away. “I’m guessing you’re feeling better?”

“Yeah, a lot better,” he said and meant it. He had a plan. He could do something.

“Well, good. Mom left about an hour ago. Doctor's appointment, won’t be home till late,” Eddie said, turning back to his book. He turned the page, nonchalant. “If you make us some lunch, I’ll consider curing your bedsores.” 

Rich leaped out of bed, comically tripping over Eddie’s towel from the night before. Eddie just laughed and shouted, “Easy there, tiger,” as Richie jumped up and out of the room. 

After extensive care, the boys concluded neither of them had any bedsores left. 

\--- 

It was a Saturday, so that meant the Losers club was in action. Stan had to show up late cause, even though he pissed him off at his Bar Mitzvah couple years back, his dad still expected Stan to be at least a little bit part of the big happy Jewish family. While Stan was away, Bev would bring the pot she blackmailed one of the freshmen into giving her. Stan didn’t like all that stuff, anyways. When Stan the Man was away, the Losers would play. Or, in this case, get high.

“So, Rich, you get that enormous stick out of your ass yet?” Beverly asked, ever the subtle friend. She took a long drag and passed it across the clubhouse. 

Richie just laughed and took the joint from her, “Yeah, got it surgically removed.” 

Bill pipped up from the corner, “G-good cause you have some f-f-fucking apologizing to do to St-stan.”

Rich nodded and passed it Bill’s way after one long pull. He really needed this Saturday. “I’ve already got a plan. The movies on me tonight. I’ll pick it up and everything.”

Bill nodded and Ben politely declined when he offered it over. Eddie didn’t, and took far more than one turn. “So what are we watching, anyways? It better not be fucking Miracle on 54th Street again. It’s not funny, it’s an actually genuine story that you guys keep mocking and-”

“Calm down, Kaspbrak,” Richie said, pulling the joint away from Eddie after he deemed he’d had enough. “It’s November. We can alternate your cheesy Christmas shit with Mike and my scary movies.” Rich held up his hand for a high five. 

Mike left him hanging, “Just cause I liked Silence of the Lambs doesn’t make scary movies our thing.” He took the joint, though, and between hits mumbled something about it being based on a book he read once. 

It got back around to Bev and she finished the joint off, making sure to blow the smoke in a ring the way none of the boys could copy. “Amateurs,” she said and crushed the last little bit of smoldering paper on the ground. She looked to Ritchie, “So, what are we watching?”

Rich smirked and looked at Eddie who was, somehow still, pants shittingly terrified of horror movies. “That new Child’s Play has gotta be out by now.”

And of course, Eddie had something to say about that. “Ok but that movie is actually scary. Like, you ever heard of a crazy guy with a chainsaw murdering people? No. You heard of dolls? They’re fucking everywhere!”

Rich just laughed and stood over Ed’s, “Yeah, you worried your collections gonna rise up and kill you in your sleep?” 

“Beep beep, dickhead,” Eddie yelled at Richie, “It’s not even my collection, it's my moms.” 

The clubhouse went silent, Eddie’s words hanging in the air before everyone started laughing like a bunch of fucking Hyenas. 

“R-r-really? That’s your comeback?” Bill gasped, doubled over in the hammock. Bev was scrunched up against his leg, wheezing like she’d never learned how to breathe.

Eddie folded his arms in front of his chest while his face changed a shade of bright red the chill couldn’t even explain away. “You guys are so fucking stupid, oh my god.”

Mike was on the floor, hitting the dirt beside him. “You’re the idiot who thought ‘they’re not MY dolls’ was a valid excuse for being scared of fucking Chucky.”

Right then, Stan descended the ladder and looked out over the Losers. “What’d I miss?” he asked.

Every single one of them, even Eddie, burst into laughter again. 

\---

Bill’s house was the only place that would fit all of them, so everyone gathered in his living room with giant bowls of popcorn they passed between themselves. Richie went and picked up the tape, his treat, and even got a couple bags of m’n’m’s for the group. He found candy worked best to distract people from you having been a raging asshole. Bill started up the movie and everyone nestled into their seats. Eddie and Richie sat together in the La-Z-boy, Bev and Ben on the floor, and Stan, Mike, and Bill up on the couch. 

Eddie leaned into Richie’s ear, “It’s really not fair you dragged me into watching this. This shit is scary and you know it.”

Richie smirked and elbowed his boyfriend under the blanket. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Eddie Spaghetti,” he said, putting a strategic arm around the other boy. 

Eddie just shook his head and gave in. They hadn’t done this in a while; Eddie being the shy one, getting coddled and made fun of. The eye was turned away from Rich for a little while, and holy shit was it a relief. He could keep it up, manage to keep the focus on Eddie for- what, thirty years? He didn’t know when that dream was, how old the both of them were, but if he could just make sure he kept Eddie close he could keep him safe. He’d be ok.

Eddie shifted beside him and when Richie looked up, half the movie had passed. Chucky was being vaguely menacing when he got up and walked into the kitchen. He didn’t really have a game plan, he more just needed some space. He grabbed a solo cup and filled it from the tap, knocking it back in two or three drinks before going back for more. It tasted like shit, yeah, but it was something to do. Arms wrapped around him from behind and Eddie put his head against Rich’s back. 

“What ya up to in here?” he asked, yawning against Richie.

“Nothin, sweetpea,” Rich said. He’d never called Eds sweetpea before, he hardly called him anything but Eddie or Eds. When he turned and saw Eddie blushing like a schoolgirl he decided he liked it. “You need something?”

Eddie nodded, hands steady on Richie’s waist. “I missed you.” 

Rich smiled, he was cute when he was all sleepy like this. “Yeah, pumpkin? I missed you too, but I was only gone for five fuckin’ minutes,” he sing-songed.

Rich watched Eddie blush in real-time, and decidedly, it was fucking magic. “Well, you know what I mean, trashmouth.”

Richie nodded. He knew what Ed meant, so he didn’t think twice when Eddie grabbed his hips harder and leaned in, eyes taking in Richie, all of Richie, before their lips met. He smiled against his boyfriend's lips, trying to get out an “Eager, are we?” that Eddie didn’t let free. Eddie brought a hand up behind his head and kissed harder, leaning them both over the sink.

Rich broke away, breathless and bracing himself against the countertop. “I- Shouldn’t we- We can’t do this here,” he finally managed. Jesus, why was it so hard to talk after kissing? He should be a pro at it by now. 

Eddie smirked, “Oh so  _ you’re _ the responsible one now.”

Rich shoved his chest, but his boyfriend didn’t move. “Someone has to, so I’ll graciously accept the over-worrying dickhead position in your absence.”

Ed laughed, like really actually laughed, and it made Richie smile. This fuckin dork was laughing at his dumb jokes, not anyone else's. Maybe that's what love was, laughing at one person's terrible jokes for the rest of your life. 

“Just shut up and let me kiss you,” Ed said, arms draped around Rich’s shoulders. And really, how could he say no to that?

Eddie was kissing him again, but smiling the whole way through it. He peppered kisses sloppily around his mouth and on his chin. Rich didn’t have the heart to tell him he was off-course cause really, he didn’t mind the little kisses all over. His nose, his jaw, his neck all peppered with little spots of warmth that practically screamed ‘I’m in love with Eddie Kaspbrak and he loves me right back!’. Eddie continued, following a nonsense trail of kisses from Richie’s eyebrows all the way down to the tips of his fingers. 

“I love you,” he said and kissed it into his jaw. “I love you.” 

Eds loved his lips and his cheeks and his ears and his eyes. He kissed the phrase into each nook and cranny he could reach. “I love you,” he said against Rich’s hand. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

The kitchen light turned on. Bev stood in the doorway, eyes squinting in the light. Eddie spun around, eyes wide and face horror-struck. The guy may as well seen Pennywise instead of one of their closest friends. “Bev! Hey, uh… I was just- We were-”

“Making out, I know,” she said, rolling her eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Just move, some of us want coke.”

“Wait, we had coke?” Rich piped up, hair sticking out of place in every which way. 

Beverly laughed, filling a cup from the two-liter. “That’s what surprises you out of this interaction? The coke?”

Richie shrugged, “Can’t help my flaming homosexual tendencies, but everyone needs an ice-cold Coca-Cola.” He smiled and stuck his thumb up in a cheesy, over the top commercial way. 

Bev turned off the light and winked at a still terrified Eddie, “Good luck with your walking Coke-ad.”

Eddie turned around back to Richie, “Uh……”

Rich just laughed and kissed the tip of his nose, “Nice goin’, Ed’s. You blew our fag cover.” He still made sure to keep his voice down. Couldn’t blow their fag cover to someone who didn’t already look at Rich smugly when they teased each other. 

“Don’t say that word! And it wasn’t my fault I-”

Richie hit his boyfriend in the ribs, “Yeah, it is, Spaghetti. You have outed us to the entirety of the Losers club, we are doomed to live a friendless and ridiculed life.” He dramatically draped himself over the counter, hand to his forehead like a southern belle. 

Eddie just huffed and stormed out of the kitchen. Shit. That wasn’t the intended reaction. Richie followed behind him, the other Losers yelling at him as he walked in front of the TV during the big final showdown. Eddie plopped down in the chair and watched the movie in silence. No arm around Rich. No joking when Chucky did something stupid looking. Not even a jump when he popped out at the screen. 

“Hey, you know I didn’t mean it, right?” Richie said as the credits started rolling. 

Eddie glared at him, “You’re the one saying we can’t fucking tell anybody we’re together.”

Rich recoiled. Obviously, his boyfriend hadn’t gotten over it yet. Rich looked down at his hands, “Well, we can’t really go around telling everybody-”

Eddie wasn’t bothering to whisper anymore. The room was dark and silent as the credit screen rolled on, but even if it was a packed house he would have been the same. “I don’t give a shit if Bev knows, I don’t give a shit if the Losers know, all of fucking Derry could know and I’d be just fucking fine with it! You’re the one who said we couldn’t tell anyone. I promised I’d follow that. Now you’re fucking- this bullshit it- ugh!” 

Eddie stood hastily from the La-Z-boy and turned around to face Rich. “You really gotta fucking make up your mind. Is it a big deal or isn’t it?” He stormed off in a huff, probably to Bill’s room and the nice bed to sleep this whole thing off. 

Rich looked across the room and everyone was still and, for the most part, silent. Stan and Bill were flopped over each other, snoring like a two-headed steam train, but that was usual. Ben and Beverly were curled up next to each other on the floor, her arm over him. They’d just started dating a couple months back, but they were basically professionals at it. Bev shifted over on the floor. Shit, Rich thought. Shit shit shit please don’t let her still be up. She didn’t wake up, though. She just pulled her blanket up and settled down again. 

Richie turned over in the La-Z-Boy, closing his eyes. Eddie was ok, he reminded himself. In the morning he could apologize to hell and back and make it better again. For now, Rich just curled into a ball and drifted off.

\--- 

Richie was in the dark again, the cavern spreading out on all sides. In front of him was the older Eddie. Just Eddie in the middle of what looked like a crater, impact spread up above them. Sharpened to a point that made Richie’s stomach churn.

“Hey, Richie!” he said, smiling and reaching out. He was the same as last night. Eye’s brown, cheeks soft, smile wide and bright. 

Rich looked around, where was the catch? Where was the fucking clown? “Hiya, Ed’s,” he said, reaching out to him. His hands were warm, but normal. He was just Eddie. 

Eddie’s face scrunched up, eyebrows and nose all screwed up in one motion. “Don’t call me that.”

Rich smiled, his own voice deep and foreign. “Oh, yeah? What ya gonna do about it, spaghetti?”

Eddie lunged forwards, charging at Richie as he smiled and ran away. They bobbed and weaved between the spikes, Richie managing to stay on his feet over the rough ground. He could hear both of them laughing echoing through the cavern. Until, of course, he didn’t. Richie fell over with an oof and hit the ground hard, much harder than he would have as a kid. God, this aging thing was bullshit. 

Eddie caught up and tripped over him, landing on top of Rich with a huff. When Ed’s came to, he started laughing. “Got you!” he yelled, victorious. He’d never won tag when they were in elementary school, he’d always have an asthma attack two minutes in. “I got you, Rich!”

Richie couldn’t help but smile, “Yeah, yeah. Good going, idiot.” He looked up and Eddie was so- old. God it made him happy. The little dorky sick kid who Rich was convinced would be attached to an iron lung by the time he was 20 was here and… aged. He’d done things and felt things and showed it. His hand was marked with that jagged little scar. His knees were probably fucked up from years of jumping around in the woods with the Losers. He had laugh lines everywhere and god- Richie loved thinking at least a little bit they were because of him. 

Rich put a hand to Ed’s face, his partner hovering over him still. Smiling all the while. His skin was still baby soft, the bastard. It was always so nice to hold and kiss, and apparently, that’s one thing he never grew out of. 

Rich moved his hand aside, planting a small kiss on his cheek. Was it weird, he wondered, kissing someone who was only sort of your boyfriend? Only kind of the person you were in love with now. Pulling away, he felt strands of cotton pull softly against his lips trailing away from Ed’s face.

When he looked, a small bandage was covering Eddie’s cheek. Had that been there before? He put a finger to his lips, pink and red tufts coming off. His mind went to cotton candy. That’s all it was. Cotton candy. “Eddie?”

Eddie fell forwards and it was happening again. The clown was above them both, smiling down at Richie. “No!” he wanted to say, “Leave him the fuck alone!” but was stuck. He was frozen as Eddie’s eyes burst open, the point of Pennywise’s arm ripping through his back. Rich could feel the warmth dripping across his chest, the hole in his best friend’s stomach open and scream out in red, hot pools. 

“Richie?” Eds asked, arms shaking as he buckled onto Rich’s chest. Rich had to wiggle to get arms under Ed’s and push him up. “Rich, that hurts.” Eddie cried, and it rattled in his chest like it was impossible for him to take even the shakiest breath. 

Richie was crying, blood on his glasses, his hands, all down the front of his shirt. “I know, Eds. I’m gonna make it better.”

Eddie screamed as Rich pressed his jacket to the hole, and oh god, had it been this big last time? Had it always been that bad? “Please stop! You’re hurting me.” 

Rich’s hands shook but he held the jacket against Ed steadily. “I know it hurts. I’m here. I can make it better.”

“Fuck!” Eddie yelled and flinched against the pressure. “Please, Richie! It hurts, it hurts so bad.”

Richie didn’t listen, he just put a hand against Eddie’s face. The bandage doing nothing to absorb the blood soaking his hands. “I love you. I love you so much Eddie Kaspbrak and I’m not letting you fucking die.”

Eddie just shuddered and coughed up what Richie could only assume was blood. He wasn’t looking at that, he was just watching Eddie. Ed leaned against the pillar, the spike and oh- oh god it was happening. It shouldn’t be here already. His face was so tired. So drained. Was it always this fast? Did he ever even have a chance to save him?

Richie just held Eds, cradling his face because if he moved anything else it’d make everything worse. He was crying. There were tears and blood and a circle of black around his vision that were blocking Eddie out but he held on. “I love you.” Richie said, and that's all he could do. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

By the third I love you, Eddie was gone.

\---

Richie woke up and had just enough sense to not scream. He gasped for air, his lungs aching like they hadn’t had it for years. Trembling as he pushed himself out of the chair, he walked upstairs, avoiding the creaky fifth stair, and knocked on Bill’s closed door.

“Eddie?” he called, his voice tight. “Are you awake?”

There was no response from the other side of the door, so he just curled against himself, head against the wall. 

He took a shaky breath, repeating to himself. “Let me tell you about the future.”


	4. Chapter 4

Richie sat on the banks of the quarry, feet in the water. His hands were buried in the dirt and sand, fidgeting and avoiding eye-contact.

“So, he doesn’t know, does he?” Bev asked, throwing a rock out into the water.

“No. I can’t tell him.” Richie said, and let a fistful of sand run through his fingers. The Losers has all split up and gone home around noon. It was Sunday, after all. Sunday’s were the kind of days you threw away because what the hell else could you do with them?

Beverly nodded and looked down at the ground. “You know,” she said, “I’ve been having the same kind of nightmares.” 

Rich looked to her, “Yeah?”

Bev smirked and looked over to him. “Yeah, dickhead. That’s why we promised to come back, because I-” she threw a stone in the lake, and it splashed up at them. “I know IT won’t leave us alone that easily.”

Richie looked at Bev, she’d changed the best of all the Losers. Her hair looked like it was growing in reverse, every year she kept it shorter and shorter. Nowadays it was almost shorn to her head, most of the curl having nowhere to go. He liked to think they just switched hair as highschool raged on. “I just… I know it isn’t a dream. It’s what’s going to happen.”

Beverly had a rock ready to throw, but she just turned it over in her palm, thinking. She looked at Rich, and god it was hard to escape her eyes. She was looking right through him. “You love him, right?”

Richie tried to think about the situation he found himself in as little as possible when he said, “Yes.” He loved Eddie with his whole heart, but it wasn’t the kind of thing you could just… say. You couldn’t tell people. 

Beverly nodded, “I figured. Last night doesn’t exactly hide it, though.”

Rich stood and pulled his jeans above his calves, wading in the water. It was fucking freezing, but he kinda appreciated that. It grounded him. “Yeah. I’m sorry about that. Just please, don’t tell-“

Beverly held her hand out for Rich to pull her up, “None of the other Losers know. I’ve been pulling strings for you guys for a couple years now,” wading out to meet him, she was only half-joking when she said, “You owe me.”

Rich laughed, more bitter than sweet. “So you’ve known for a while, huh?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve known since that first fight at Neibolt,” she splashed a handful of water towards him. “I love you, Rich, and that means I know when you’re head over heels. Especially when it’s for one of our friends.”

Richie splashed her back and laughed when Bev filled her hands with the freezing water and dumped it on his head. His curls flattened out on top, a chill spreading steadily across his body. “Well for the sake of fairness, I knew about you and Ben ages ago.” 

Beverly ruffled his hair, shaking a few drops free. “Well yeah, dumbass. He kissed me back to life in the sewers. That’s about as Disney as it gets.” Rich shoved her away on instinct, watching in horror as she fell fully into the water. She just emerged, hair flat against her face, framing her signature smirk. That devilish smile on her face that made you just  _ know _ she was gonna get you back bad and soon. 

Rich could only run, yelling “Beep beep!” for his life before Beverly yanked him down into the water. He hardly even noticed how cold it was, the two of them were laughing like a couple of idiots. Which, really, wasn’t too far from the truth.

They drifted about in silence for a moment. The sun was hidden behind a sheet of clouds, not even the geese were out here to bother them. Stan had probably rounded them all up to study or some shit. Rich chuckled at the thought of Stan angrily chasing a goose with a net. If anyone could catch it, though, it would be him. 

Bev floated over and bumped into Richie, expression serious but caring. “I’m really happy for you,” she said and thank god she smiled, because if she looked him in the eyes any longer he’d confess everything he’d ever thought or done right then and there. 

His face got hot as he realized what she said. “What?” What the hell did he have going for him? He was just… Richie. He was the class clown, Trashmouth, a Loser. 

She put a soggy hand to his face, and it was just about the world's worst/kindest gesture. “I know these things can be scary, but it all works out. I promise.”

Rich let out a breath, looking down at the water. “I know. The nightmares are fucking-“ 

Bev interrupted him, shaking her head, “That’s not what I mean, Trashmouth.”

Richie nodded, lifting his water-heavy sleeves up and over to Bev. The two embraced, and for just a moment, Richie felt calm. 

“Now,” she said, walking up and out of the water, “Let’s get out of this cold ass water.”

—-

Richie was home for the first time in three days. His mom nodded to him on the way in, asking half-interested in how school was going and if his friends were doing alright. He answered the same tone, his friends were fine, school was good, his car was parked in the garage. She liked that he was responsible with his car. He liked the perm she’d gotten on Friday. 

Once they’d dealt with the unpleasant pleasantries, Rich went upstairs and showered. He realized that even though he had no cleanliness fights with Eddie, he was fucking disgusting. He’d just caked on deodorant for… shit, how long had it been? Hair sticking every which way, he found more than one leaf stuck inside a curl, which was as much a testament to his state as Eddie’s newfound chill about that shit.

He rinsed it all down the drain till his sister banged on the door, complaining he was hogging all the hot water. He took another five minutes. Just cause. 

He left the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and another around his hair. “Your turn, pest,” he yelled towards his sister's door.

“Screw you, Rich!” she retorted. She was in her rebellious phase and loved to hate everything. Ahh, he’d trained her well.

Richie laid down on his bed. One of the many good things about staying over at Eddie’s so much was his room stayed clean. Or, more accurately, stayed less dirty. He moved a stack of comics next to his backpack. Eddie would want to read them tomorrow. Or maybe Tuesday. Whenever he was gonna talk to him again, the new X-Men issue couldn’t hurt the situation. 

That morning Eddie had woken up before all the other Losers, made them breakfast which was normal and very appreciated, but he refused to talk to Richie. It was almost unbearable. Richie asked him to pass the salt and he looked around like he didn’t know who said it. Which, even though it was a dick move, was admittedly very funny. He would have applauded his boyfriend and made a long, increasingly disgusting, joke about him “rubbing off on him”. It obviously wasn’t the time, though, so he just added it to the queue. 

He picked the phone off the receiver by his bed and dialed Ed. After about a minute he heard Mrs. K’s voice saying, “Kaspbrak residence! We’re at an appointment right now, but we’ll call you back as soon as possible!” Before the machine beeped, Rich just hung up the phone.

What had he even done before Eddie? He chuckled to himself at the accidental joke and almost wanted to “beep beep” himself in Ed’s absence. 

God, this sucked.

He couldn’t sleep cause he’d see Eddie die again, and he couldn’t stay awake cause it was hell to just exist without Eds. Either way, Ed was gonna be the death of him.

Richie wandered downstairs. His mom said something about leftovers, and he said something back. It might have been funny, cause his dad chuckled as he flipped the page of his magazine. Something about golf or gardening or other dad hobbies. He picked up a dish from the fridge and started heating it up. It smelled like casserole, but the meat was indistinguishable. 

He ate in front of the TV, but it was playing nothing particularly interesting. At one point there was a Full House re-run on that reminded him of Eddie. One of the kids was running around terrified of everything cause the sister had the flu or something. It didn’t make a lot of sense, but it made him smile and turn like he was going to tell Eds all about it. He just kept eating the casserole.

God, this sucked.

Ten PM rolled around faster than he’d thought. Rich was throwing a ball up in the air and catching it like in those bad prison movies. It was more fun than it was an hour ago.

“You should’ve been in bed an hour ago.” Rich said. His Eddie impression was pretty shit, but just do a girl voice and say some bullshit about health and everyone gets the point. “You gotta get eight fucking hours of sleep or your brain will melt.”

He laughed at himself, just  _ knowing _ how angry Eddie would be if he were here. He threw the ball in the air and caught it. “I’m Eddie and I’m perfect. I have cheekbones and eyelashes and love my boyfriend even though he’s a fucking asshole.”

Rich dropped the ball before it could fly up in the air again. This wasn’t fun anymore. He stood up, pacing from the desk to the closet to the door back to the bed. He grabbed his keys and jacket from the floor. He had to apologize. 

In socked feet, he snuck down the staircase. His parents were already up in bed, and the little pest was probably knees deep in her walkman this time of night, so he should be good. He got outside aaaaaand fuck, his dad was parked in front of the garage. It was fucking cold, Rich had no car, and that's how he wound up on his bike, freezing his ass off, near tears because he missed his god-damn boyfriend. 

Rich turned the corner, pedaling faster as he saw Eddie’s house in the distance. “I’m sorry,” he practiced. “You were right, I don’t care if anyone knows. I just love you.” He hopped up on the sidewalk and biked through the grass of the Kaspbrak residence, dismounting next to Eddie’s downstairs window. He caught his breath before knocking sharply on the glass.

“Eddie, it’s Rich. Please, open up.” He knocked again, peering in the window. Would he even fucking let him in? The window latch clicked, and god it felt like he was getting married and getting high and graduating all at once. Eddie’s head poked out of the window and Rich could see bags under his eyes, he took a deep breath and it sounded like his lungs were replaced with shitty maracas. 

“Shit, honey,” Rich said, pulling himself up the windowsill and onto Ed’s bed. 

The second he was in, Eddie threw himself on Rich. “I’m so sorry, Rich. I didn’t fucking mean it-”

Richie just held Eddie, he was still only like 100 pounds soaking wet so it was easy to scoop his boyfriend up and hold him close. “It’s ok, baby. You were right. That’s why I came over. You were right and I should have been an adult about it.” 

Eddie wasn’t crying exactly, but it was clear he had been for so long the tears had run out. “No, you really don’t have to say that-”

Richie looked down at Eds, hands cupped on either side of his face. He only wanted to focus on Eddie right now, and he wanted his boyfriend to know it. “No. I’m serious. I love you and I don’t give a shit if anyone knows or not. We can be the official Derry town fags for all I care! I just want you.”

Eddie looked at Rich shocked, if he had any energy left he probably would be dropping his jaw with his eyes bulging out. Or maybe that was too Looney Toons. “But… you said that shit scared you…”

“It scares the shit out of me, Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie smirked, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend’s forehead, “but I can live with that. I know you want people to know and, well, you’re half of us so you have a right to tell people. I trust you.”

Eddie looked at Rich, confused or emotional or vaguely gassy, who could tell. “Are you sure, Rich? Thats… big.”

Richie smirked. Oh, what a fool his boyfriend was. “Not as big as my-”

“Beep beep!” Eddie rolled his eyes, smiling despite himself. He ran a hand through Rich’s hair that had somehow gotten disheveled, or at least to Ed’s standards. “I mean, you can’t really blame me for wanting to show off the prettiest boy in the school.”

Richie laughed at that, “Wow, rude. I’m easily the prettiest anything in the school.”

Eddie shoved him away and flopped back onto the bed, smiling like a goddamn idiot. “I can’t wait to tell the Losers.”

Rich sat on the edge, smiling because Eddie was, but not particularly meaning it. “Well, I think Beverly is well aware. I talked to her today and she’s apparently known since Neibolt.”

Eddie starred at Rich like he was turning into a goddamn elephant rather than just sitting, being his boyfriend. “Well, yeah honey. I mean… we weren’t exactly discreet even if we hadn’t talked to each other about it yet.”

Richie smirked, “I guess you’re right.” He moved in next to Eddie, laying his head on his boyfriend’s chest. Hearing his heartbeat slow and skip.

Eddie pulled Richie closer, “Wow, first time I’ve ever heard that.”

Rich shoved him in the ribs, making the boy giggle and shove him back. He couldn’t give in on this shove-war. It was war, afterall. He shoved Eddie against the wall, failing at suppressing his laughter. His boyfriend flipped around and shoved Richie over before he could smush his adorable boyfriends face right into the wall. Rich moved to hit Eddie’s weak spot, he was as much a ticklish bastard at 13 as 17, especially on his stomach. But, as well as Rich knew Ed’s weakness, Eddie knew Richie’s bullshit. He grabbed his hands, pinning them down against the bed as Eds straddled his hips. 

Richie completely stilled. Oh. Oh no. 

Eddie looked down at him, both hands focused on holding him down on the mattress. Richie tried to wiggle his way out. It was deathly silent, yeah, but he could make a joke out of anything. He could- he could do- 

He couldn’t focus. 

“Can I- can I kiss you?” Eddie said, hair falling around his face. His hands were warm, strong. Legs solid on either side of his hips, all 90 pounds of him was keeping Richie pressed to the mattress.

“Please,” Richie said, and god it was so quiet. He could feel his pulse everywhere, everything was too hot and too tight and too- everything.

Eddie leaned down, lips meeting each other gentle but hungry. Richie hummed against his boyfriend's lips, allowing for the kiss to deepen. He shifted, letting Eddie move his legs forwards and sit more comfortably in his lap. He could feel it in his chest, Eddie was everywhere. Both his hands were held up by one of Ed’s, the other hand tender against his side. His shirt was pulled up haphazardly, Eddie moving his mouth down to pepper the exposed stomach. 

“Eds-”, his voice cracked like he was in fucking middle school again. “If I didn’t know better you were coming on to me.”

His boyfriend laughed, “If you play your cards right.”

Rich laughed, feeling Ed bounce up and down as his stomach moved. “God damn, I’m really rubbing off on you.”

“If you play your cards r-“

Rich squirmed, more pretending to escape than actually wanting to, “Ok, enough dirty jokes for one night. We’ve had a good run, it’s time for me to go.”

Eds chuckled, lifting Rich’s shirt up and off with little to no expertise, but enough care to make it not funny one bit. He put his hands at his sides, Eddie forgetting to keep hold in his comedy act, and pushed himself up. Lips so close to his boyfriend’s, his eyelids drifted lazily closed. He could smell Eddie’s shampoo, that hypoallergenic shit he’d always used. Lavender. Fresh cut grass. Behind his eyelids, he was somewhere green. Did New York City have anywhere green? He hoped it did because he was going to kiss Eddie Kaspbrak out somewhere green and fresh. 

The green disappeared and Eddie replaces it. Rich was slammed down into the mattress, wide eyes meeting with Ed’s mischievous ones. He felt every point of contact. Hips. Hands. Eyes. Lips.

Richie didn’t know how he’d ever thought they’d have issues making up.


End file.
